Meta 1
by SevReed
Summary: One-shot - Tori and Jade read some fan fiction - or at least Jade does. Update: And now so does Tori, not a one-shot anymore... WARNING: May contain unicorns.
1. Chapter 1

**One-shot, shameless fluff...**

 _Jade pushed the Latina roughly up against the wall of the janitor's closet, her lips crashing into the other girl's, causing her to cry out in-_

"Jade!"

"What?"

"You have _got_ to stop reading those."

"I can't help it, I'm an egomaniac. Not that these do much for my ego. Am I _really_ this much of a bitch?"

Tori rolled her eyes. They were going to have this conversation again. "No, of _course_ not."

"You wouldn't think it to read some of this stuff. Oh, look, I'm a _vampire_ in this one. Redeemed by the light of your heavenly sun. Ugh."

"Stop that."

"I sometimes wonder how you can stand to be with me. No wait, apparently you can't. I drive you to suicide here."

"That's nice."

"Actually, you die in quite a lot of these."

"I'm beginning to see that as a blessing."

"But it's okay, we all stand around and talk about what a saint you were. And I get to feel like crap, obviously, because it's usually my fault."

"They're not real, Jade."

"I know. It's just... why is it always me?"

"It's _really_ not."

"Yes it is. Why am I always the evil one and you're always the angel?"

"Well, that's kind of the way we came across. You know what it was like."

"So, what, I was _never_ nice? I didn't have one redeeming feature? What about that thing with the ice-cream? I helped you out, didn't I? So you didn't have to be Trina's slave?"

"I never said you didn't. Come on, Jade, I didn't write these, you know. They're just fantasies."

"Yeah, well, speaking of slaves and fantasies..."

"Please don't. You know that stuff creeps me out."

"Not according to this one here, it doesn't. I'm surprised you even find _time_ to be the Princess of..." Jade peered at the screen, "... _Bondagium_. You know, what with all the time you spend tying me up and giving it to me in the a-"

"Jade!"

"I mean, what makes people think I'd even want that?"

"I don't know - maybe you look like that kind of girl."

"Well, we'll never know _now_ , will we?"

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"That's not fair."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"Anyway, what about all the ones where you're all dark and mysterious, and I'm just a total dork? _'Oh Jade, said the Latina to herself as she looked at the moody Goth, you're so totally cool and awesome and mean and everything, I love you, but you'd never look at me that way.'_ "

"Well, they _are_ more realistic, I suppose, but... _Ow!_ "

"You deserved that. And what about ' _Streetlights'_? I cried at that."

"Okay, I'll give you ' _Streetlights'_."

"Yay!"

"But they're still all about you. You know, melting the ice-maiden."

"I did."

"No you didn't."

"Actually, no. You were already pretty gooey."

"Very funny. I just want... I don't know, Tori. Just for once I'd like to be the nice one - not the damaged one, or the weird one, or the cold one, or the one who spends all their time stomping about punching people and has a bedroom full of dead rats."

"Jade..."

"Just for once, I'd... I'd like to be the _hero_."

Tori felt her eyes sting, and she crossed the room to kneel beside the other girl. "You'll always be _my_ hero," she said quietly, as she wrapped her arms around her and tried not to flinch at the cold steel of the wheelchair. "Whatever they say."

Jade rested her head against Tori's and felt the hug tighten. "You are so cheesy, Vega," she murmured, brushing away a tear. "Sometimes I think you read too much fan fiction."

 _"Jade!"_


	2. Chapter 2 - Meta 2

**I wasn't going to, but I did. Finnegan's Wake, anyone?**

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"You're not still reading those, are you? We're supposed to be tidying up in here."

"Why would I be in a _wheelchair?_ I mean, it's cute and all, but why the wheelchair?"

"I don't know. Maybe you took a bullet for me."

"Well, that does sound like the kind of selfless, heroic thing I'd _do_ , but who'd want to shoot you? Apart from me, obviously."

"Gee, thanks. Look, I don't write this stuff. Are you going to help me or not?"

"What else have we got? Let's see... I'm a drug addict, I'm a vampire, _you're_ a vampire - no wait, you're an awesome _ninja_ vampire - threesome with Beck, threesome with Cat... Doesn't anyone just write a love story anymore? What else? Good grief, there's three of these things now."

"What?"

"You remember 'The Real Me'?"

"Ooh, I liked that one. What? Don't look at me like that, I think it sounds kind of cool. I can picture us at the Diamond Club, me looking all dominant, you on a leash..."

"In your dreams. In fact, I'm beginning to suspect you wrote it in the first place, just to spite me."

"I did not!"

"Hmm."

"So what about the others?"

"Let's see - this last one's more realistic, I totally kick your ass in the first chapter, then tie you to the bed, Saw-style."

"Yeah, 'cause that's _so_ much more likely."

" _I_ think so."

"Anyway, what makes you think you can kick my ass?"

"What makes you think I can't?"

"Ahem. Awesome ninja skills, remember?"

"Vega, just because people _write_ these things, it doesn't automatically make them true."

"Whatever. What about the other one?"

"Yeah... you _really_ don't want to read that one."

"Well, I kind of do, _now_."

"No you don't. It's awful."

"Give me the phone."

"No."

"Give it."

" _No!"_

"Oh, come on, how bad can it... Hey, stop that! We're supposed to be... That's not fair! _Oh_..."

 _Jade pushed the Latina roughly up against the wall of the janitor's closet, her lips crashing into the other girl's, causing her to cry out in-_


	3. Chapter 3 - Awesomeness

**Sorry, I couldn't find an awesome vampire ninja Tori story to back up my claim, so I've had to provide my own...**

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Jadelycanthia Occidius howled in satisfaction as her transformation reached its climax. Tonight was the night. Tonight her bloodline would triumph. She bounded across town to where she knew her enemy would be.

"So, Vladia Meadows, we meet at last," she said. "Or should I say... _Victoriana Vega_."

The black-clad figure dressed all in black turned slowly, it's face covered by a black mask. "Jadelycanthia," it murmured, somehow, through the mask, which was black.

"Our families have fought for centuries," Jadelycanthia said, expositionally. "A blood feud that I may or may not spend the next twenty-seven chapters explaining, even though we both know all about it. But tonight..." she bared her teeth, "it ends."

"Yes it does," hissed the vampire, pulling aside the mask to show her fangs.

"Indeed." The werewolf snarled.

"Yes," the vampire toothed.

"So, prepare to die."

Victoriana laughed, and flipped her hair flirtatiously. "I've been prepared to die for a thousand years, Jadelycanthia, and yet," she unsheathed the long, shiny blade of her katana which up until now had been completely invisible, "here I am." She grinned, and her fangs glinted in the light. "Bring it."

Jadelycanthia arched an eyebrow. "So," she said. "You're a ninja. This should make things... _interesting_." She roared and leapt towards her foe.

Even as the werewolf attacked, the vampire started to spin, flying upwards out of reach in an entirely improbably way. Jadelycanthia hit empty space, and looked around, confused.

"Up here," came the sultry vampire's voice, from the ceiling. Jadelycanthia looked up and gasped. "No! You're a..."

"That's right, Jadelycanthia," Victoriana said smugly. "I'm not just a _ninja_ vampire. I'm an _awesome_ ninja vampire."

"The worst kind," the werewolf spat.

"Yes! And now it's time for you to meet your doom, foul abomination!"

"That's a bit harsh."

"Sorry. But nevertheless," Victoriana said, "I must put an end to your line."

She flew from the rafters, her body striking that of the werewolf and they rolled together across the floor, feeling the heat of an unknown passion, until finally they came to rest with Victoriana on top, the blade of her ninja-type sword pressed against Jadelycanthia's throat. "And so it ends," she said. "Prepare to feel the thrill of cold steel."

"Steel?" said the werewolf, surprised.

"Um, yes," said Victoriana. "That's what swords are usually made of."

"But I can only be hurt by silver." Jadelycanthia said. "I thought you'd have known that. You know, after all this time."

"Dang it!" said the vampire, crossly. "Curse my lack of foresight, and stuff. I suppose you've got a bunch of garlic and a cross somewhere?"

"Well, no," the werewolf admitted. "No pockets, you see."

"Oh."

They both stood up rather sheepishly and brushed themselves down. "Don't you think it's odd," said Jadelycanthia, after a while, "that neither of us thought to bring the only thing that could hurt the other?"

Victoriana shrugged. "I guess," she said.

"It's almost as if," the werewolf, who had now conveniently transformed back into a hot girl, continued, "we don't _really_ hate each other." She slowly approached the beautiful vampire.

"What are you saying?" said Victoriana, backing up against the wall. "That all this is just an excuse for..."

"You know what I'm saying," said the werewolf, her face now inches from Victoriana's. "You've always known."

"But..."

 _Jadelycanthia pushed the vampire roughly up against the wall of the janitor's closet, her lips crashing into the other girl's, causing her to cry out in-_


	4. Chapter 4 - Work, Work, Work

**Once more unto the breach, dear friends...**

 **Max is, of course, Max Tomos, author of the excellent 'Love Cuffs'.**

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 _...up against the wall of the janitor's closet, her lips crashing into the other girl's, causing her to cry out in-_

"Ow!" Tori pulled away, nursing her lip. "Do you have to keep doing that?"

"Sorry," Jade said, with a shrug. "But that's what it says here. _'Lips crashing'_. It's pretty specific."

"Yeah, well, I suspect whoever wrote that never 'crashed their lips' into anything more exciting than a burrito. I think I'm going to need a stitch."

"Don't be such a baby. Here, let me have a look."

"I don't even see why we have to do this anyway."

"Because that's how it works," Jade said, patiently. "They write them, we have to do them."

"Why?"

"Because otherwise we don't exist, dumbass." She leaned forward and gently kissed Tori's injured lip. "That better?"

"I guess," Tori said, grudgingly. She sank down on the bed. "But how will they even _know_ we're doing it? What if we just stopped?"

"Do you really want to risk it and find out?"

"Well, no, but... it's just so _hard_. We've been everywhere, done everything. I had to dig myself out of my own grave last week because _you_ guys forgot about me after the eulogy."

"Well it's not my fault they didn't flag the story as 'complete', is it? I thought you were supposed to come back from the dead. Anyway, you had a week off while my eternal soul was perishing in an epic, intergalactic ghost war between the Nether Dimensions and... I don't know, some guys in hats."

"That wasn't a week off!" Tori said, indignantly. "There were three earthquakes, the worst storm in living memory and my whole family died. Twice."

"Well-"

"And," she said, " _And_ , I had to talk to Robbie about 'World of Warcraft'. For _three whole chapters_."

"Ok, I'm sorry. I feel your pain."

"Thank you."

"Still love me?"

"I guess. Okay, what's next? Ooh, let's do this one."

"What is it?"

"I'm an awesomely famous pop star, surrounded by the trapping of fame. But not, you know, drugs and stuff. Anyway, I miss my old school friends, so I come home."

"Uh huh." Jade had a feeling she knew where this was going. "And what am I?"

"You're..." Tori scrolled down and peered at the screen. "A downtrodden single mom with issues."

"Of course I am," Jade sighed in resignation. "What kind of issues? Wait - they're not the _'getting hit by a car'_ kind of issues are they? Please tell me I don't get hit by a car again."

"Um... no."

"Thank God for that. I've only just got out of that damned wheelchair."

"But I do land on you in my private helicopter."

" _What?_ "

"Just kidding."

"You'd better be. So, where do we start?"

"I'm... Oh, here we go, I'm on a transatlantic flight from L.A. to New York."

"Right... Wait, how does that work? Does it go around the globe or something?"

"I don't know, I didn't write it. I think the writer's foreign or something."

"Well hadn't you better go pack?"

"I guess so..." Tori's shoulders sagged. "I'm so _tired_ , Jade. Can't we just take a break? Who's going to know? It's not as if we're ever going to catch up, there are thousands of these things."

Jade looked at her for a moment. "I've got an idea," she said. She pulled out her phone.

"Who are you calling?"

"I know a guy." She dialled and paced up and down, waiting for an answer. "Come on, come on, pick up, you... Oh, hey, it's me. Look, I... don't give me that _velly solly, chinese laundry_ crap, I know it's you, you little ratbag. Right, listen, I need a favor... What? You're damned _right_ you owe me a favor, after that awful _Power Play_ fiasco you put us through, I couldn't sit down for weeks... What? What happy ending? I'll give _you_ a happy ending in a minute... no, not like that, you filthy... don't make me come over there! Right. Well? I'm waiting."

 _Tori and Jade sat peacefully with their feet up for the next hour in their cosy little apartment, doing absolutely nothing._

"It's a start. But why is our apartment so small?"

 _Tori and Jade sat peacefully with their feet up for the next hour or so in their medium-sized, modestly furnished apartment, doing nothing..._

"Boring."

 _...Except maybe kissing. And stuff._

"Wow, thank you, Anais Nin."

 _Tori and Jade spent the next two hours making out in their rather nicely appointed apartment, which they found quite affordable even though neither of them ever worked a day in their lives._

"Be still, my beating heart. Is that the best you can do?"

 _Tori and Jade spent the next four hours going at it like rabbits in the wrought-iron king-sized bed of their unrealistically expensive apartment._

"I can't do four hours," Tori piped up. "I'll need to pee."

 _Right. Fine. Tori and Jade spent the next six hours in their fabulous luxury mansion, doing whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted, including, but not limited to, making mad passionate love in a bed the size of a football field and peeing in a bathroom made entirely of gold and unicorn feathers. How's that? Happy now?_

"Unicorns don't have feathers."

 _Don't push it, West. Or I'll have Max put you in his dungeon for real._

Jade grinned and killed the call. "So," she said. "How was it for you?"

" _Mmmmm_ ," Tori purred from the gigantic bed as she stretched, "that was _amazing_. Although the unicorn feathers were a bit itchy." She pulled back the black satin sheets. "Are you coming back to bed?" she said, seductively.

"You bet I am." Jade let her robe fall to the floor. "I'm... wait a minute... Where's the bed gone? And what are all these mops and buckets doing here? No, he wouldn't, would he? _That little_ -"

 _Tori and Jade awoke from the strangest dream, and found themselves still in the janitor's closet. Jade pushed the Latina roughly up against the wall, her lips crashing extra hard into the other girl's, causing her to cry out in-_

"Damn it, Sev!"


	5. Chapter 5 - A Rebuttal

**In response to the scandalous and largely untrue accusation that I might or might not be making some of these stories up, I give you the following, reproduced in its entirety with the kind permission of my friend Anthea.**

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The Pop Princess and the Pauper

by AngryDarkSkyStormRiderGrrl475057

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Tori Vega, the most famous pop star on the planet, more famous and much better than Ariana Grande, slumped in her executive seat on the transatlantic flight from New York to L.A, and stared out of the window. Her newest single had gone double-triple-quadruple-platinum on its first day in literally ever country in the world ever, even in places where they didn't have pop music, like those African tribes with the weird clicking noises, or France. But somehow she felt unfulfilled. Being a famous pop star was much harder than people who weren't famous pop stars thought. It was a lot of pressure.

She turned to her companion, a tall handsome blond young man whose name was probably Kurt [note to self - is this a real name?]. "Oh, Kirk," she said. "I'm so tired."

"I know you are, babe," said the young man, who was both her lover and her manager. "But this is a tough business. It's the hardest business in the world. Harder than being an astronaut, or speaking German. You have to fight for what you believe you deserve, and then deserve what you're fighting for. And believe it."

"You're so wise, Dirk," she sighed, and squeezed his arm. "I don't know what I'd do without you. But sometimes I wonder if there's more to life. Sometimes I wish I could go back to simpler times, when I wasn't a famous pop star and had friends."

"You have friends," Kirk said. "Look at all those people who come to see you, who look up to you because you're so awesome. You have millions of friends."

"I know," she said. "But they're just fans. I mean real friends, like I used to have. Beck, and Andre, and Cat, and Robbie. And..." Even now, she couldn't bring herself to say it. Not after what had been said, when they'd said what they'd said, that time, that she wished she hadn't said it.

"Well maybe when we get back to L.A. you can look some of them up," said Rick. "I hear they're all pretty famous now, too."

That was true, Tori thought, thoughtfully. They were all famous and successful, although not as famously successful and famous as she was. Beck was a famous actor, Cat was a famous dancer, Andre was a famous music producer, Robbie was a famous whatever it was that he did, and Trina had big boobs, but...

"Nearly all of them," she said, wistfully.

"Anyway, we'll be back in L.A. soon for the last stop on your world tour."

Her world tour had taken her all over the world, to Europe and Russia and the Middle East and back again, and even to America, which was best because she could speak the language. But now it was over, just one more last gig to play.

"Where is our last stop?" she asked. Krik opened up his expensive laptop tablet computer.

"It's at a place called," he said, peering boyishly at the screen, "The Black Box Theater."

Tori gasped. "I know that place!" she said. That's where I grew up!"

"You grew up in a theater?" Prik deadpanned, quippishly. "That figures."

"No, silly," Tori grinned. "It's part of the school I went to. With all of my friends that I mentioned nearly all of earlier."

"Well maybe they'll come to see you," Dirk said. "They're putting in an extra ten thousand seats for the gig, so maybe they'll be able to squeeze in," he quipped, deadpannedly.

"That would be _sooooo_ cool," Tori said, excitedly. But then her face fell, and her mind was clouded with misdoubt. There was one person that wouldn't be there. One person that she'd never see again. Probably. She turned, and gazed moodily out of the window for the rest of the flight.

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Jade West wiped the sweat from her weary but exquisitely chiselled brow with a pale forearm, as she toiled in her tiny apartment that was all she could afford now that her husband had left her for a younger but not more pretty woman. She finished changing the diapers, took out the trash, fed the kids, cleaned the kitchen, took out the trash and washed the diapers. Being a single mom was hard. Especially when you had kids. She felt so downtrodden, downtrodden by a world that felt like all its weight was treading on her. Downwards. _And_ she had issues. She finished feeding the children, Amber, Kiley, Riley, Filey, Sky, Storm and Scissors, and finally her youngest, her favorite, whose name was a constant, bittersweet reminder of the pain of what had happened, that time that she remembered painfully. But she was strong, and proud. Too strong and proud and strong to need money and fame.

Or men. Especially not men.

She finished clearing the table and noticed something in the newspaper that had been laying on the table, and felt a freezing cold chill grasping icily at her heart. 'Famous Pop Star Tori Vega to Play Sell Out Show at Local Theater,' she read. It couldn't be - not her, not after all this time, not after what had been said, when they'd said those things that they'd said.

She wouldn't go, she told herself. And even if she did go, she wouldn't be able to go because it was sold out. Unless...

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Tori Vega sang her heart out to the thousands of screaming fans that packed the Black Box Theater from wall to ceiling. As she belted out her most popular songs, including that one that totally made her sound a bit gay, her eyes roamed around the room, looking for familiar faces. Finally she saw them - Beck, Andre, Cat and Robbie, dancing like crazy in the corner of the crowd. But a mist of sadness fell like rain across her eyeballs as she realized that they were alone. _She didn't come_ , she thought sadly and mistily to herself. _She hates me_. With a wrench she pulled her attention back to the music. The crowd were going wild, completely unaware of the emotional turmoil troubling their idol, totally unrecognicent of the dark shadow that haunted the most awesome pop star of them all.

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Jade West stood in front of the mirror and looked herself up and down. Despite the fact that she'd had nine children in the past three years, her body was still as young and shapely and darkly gothic as ever, even if she did have issues. She smoothed down the front of her black dress that highlighted her pale porcelain skin. _She shouldn't go_ , she told herself. _She couldn't go_. And yet, go she must, and must she would. She slipped the small brass key into her Gears Of War handbag, and left the apartment.

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The show was over, most of the fans had left, leaving only Tori, Beck, Cat, Robbie and Tori. "You guys!" Tori said, excitedly. "You came to see me, I love you all!"

"I guess, yeah," Beck said, running his hand through his hair. "You were the best of all of us. We had to come and see what all the fuss was about."

"Yeah, Chica," said Andre. "Totally yo."

"I for one was very interested," said Robbie, dorkishly.

"Blah blah my brother blah blah blah," said stupid Cat.

Tori was pensive for a moment, while she thought. "Have you seen, you know, Jade?" she said, quietly.

Beck ran his hand through his hair, foppishly. "Nah," he said. "Sorry, babe."

"You guys split up?"

"Yeah," he said, running his hands through his foppish hair. "She had issues."

"Oh, no," said - no wait, _thought_ Tori to herself, without saying it out loud. "I hope those issues aren't to do with me, and what was said."

"Are you okay, Tori?" Beck said, running his hand foppishly though his hair. "You look like you're about to see a ghost or something."

But at that moment, Tori saw her, through the crowd. _It's her_ , she definitely thought to herself this time. _She came._

The crowd parted like the dead sea [note to self - check this] as the girl in the black dress walked towards her almost like a vision, clutching her hands together almost in prayer. She walked towards the pop star until their noses were almost touching, almost.

"You came," said the Latina, unsuredly.

"Yeah, Vega, I came," drawled the Goth with a grin. "I had to see how awful you were."

"Oh, you," Tori laughed and punched the Goth. In the arm.

Jade was suddenly serious. "Can we talk?" she said.

Together they slipped backstage out of the Black Box Theater and into the school.

"I'm sorry," she said, said Jade. "About the things that I said. That time. I said things that I shouldn't have said."

"I said things _too_ , Jade," Tori said. "I said _terrible_ things, and I'm sorry I said them. I would have said sorry then, but what was said was said, and we'd already said them. And if I could go back and unsaid them, I would."

"Oh, Tori."

"Oh, Jade," said Tori. "I think I always loved you."

"I always loved you too, but what now?" said Jade in confusion. "Where do we go from here? You're a famous pop star, and I'm a downtrodden mom with issues. It's never going to work."

"We can make it work, Jade!" said Tori. "You, and me, and the kids. What are their names, by the way?"

"Amber, Kiley, Riley, Filey, Sky, Storm, Scissors, Death and..." she hesitated, nervingly. "Victoria," she finished.

Tori clasped her hand to her mouth as tears filled her eyes. "You named her after me?" she said.

"Yes," Jade said. "It's a beautiful name. I was going to just call her 'Tori'," she said with a wink, "but that sounds stupid."

"Oh Jade, I love you so much. I tell you what we're going to do," Tori said. "First of all I'm going to buy you a house."

"Really?" Jade's eyes shone with love.

"Yes!" said Tori. "That one over there." She pointed. "Then you've got somewhere to put your kids, and when I'm not out being famous, I'll come and live with you like we're a real couple that everyone wants to see whatever anyone says. How about it?"

"You've made me the happiest girl in the world, Tori," Jade sobbed. "I don't even have issues anymore."

"Well that's great!" expostulated Tori. "We're going to be so happy. By the way," she said, nudgingly, "how did you get in here? I told security to throw out anyone without a ticket."

"Ah well," Jade said with a grin. "I have a key."

"A key?" echoed Tori back. "How come?"

"I work here," Jade said, taking the other girl by the wrist and dragging her away. "I'm the new janitor."

"But..."

"And this," she said, opening a door, "is where I work." Jade pushed the pop star roughly up against the wall of the janitor's closet, her lips crashing into the other girl's, causing her to cry out in-

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 **I'm sorry, that's all there is, I must have lost the ending somewhere...**


	6. Chapter 6 - The Duel

**We here at Reed & Reed Enterprises would like to apologize for the poor quality of the preceding story, and would like to assure the readers that our new intern Anthea has been suitably reprimanded. A rewritten version of the story will be produced forthwith. In the meantime, we will return you to our scheduled programming. Thank you.**

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 _...into the other girl's, causing her to cry out in exquisite agony, her body immolated by the incandescent fire within her, her pain a tribute to the utter sublimity of the Goth's devastating touch. Their tongues intertwined like fiery serpents, the Latina unable to resist, as every fibre of her being broke down and yearned for more, knowing that she was merely a plaything of the magnificent creature before her. She broke away briefly, her eyes heavy and helpless with lust, before the masterful Goth pulled her back, her hand thrusting roughly down the front of her-_

"Whatcha doing?"

"Nothing." Jade slammed the laptop shut, guiltily.

"Were you writing something?"

"I was just-"

"Let me see."

"No."

"Show me."

"No!"

"Look! A dead baby!"

"What? Where?"

"Aha!" Tori flipped the lid open. "Let's have a... what the chiz is this?"

Jade said nothing.

"Jade?"

"I was just having a go," she muttered, sulkily.

"And this is what you came up with?" Tori narrowed her eyes, suspiciously. "You're not Sev Reed, are you?"

"What? No!"

"This is just the sort of overblown tripe he'd write."

"Look who's talking, 'Anthea' _. 'It's so hard being a famous pop star', the Latina thought, thoughtily. 'Sometimes being so awesome is such a responsibility'_."

"That's not me!"

"Well it's not me either!"

"Right." Tori spun the laptop away from Jade and started to type.

 _Suddenly the Goth realised how inconsiderate it was of her to treat her girlfriend so disrespectfully, especially when she still had a sore lip from last time, and so she immediately rushed out and bought her some flowers to apologize. Nice ones._

"Ugh." Jade grudgingly handed over the flowers.

"Ooh!" Tori clapped her hands, happily. "I'll just go and put them in some water."

Jade waited until she'd left the room and slid the laptop back in front of her.

 _Little did the Latina know that the flowers gave off a powerful aphrodisiac scent, causing her to fall helplessly at the feet of the..._

"Nice try, bucko." Tori reappeared, and pulled the laptop back towards her.

 _However, even littler did the Goth know that the Latina was immune to the scent, which caused only a slight tickling in her small but perfectly-shaped nose, and instead she sneezed grossly, I mean really grossly, all over the other girl._

"What other girl?"

"You, you idiot."

"Oh, I... _Eeew!"_

"Serves you right for trying to trick me."

"Is that so?"

 _The Latina quickly realized that the other girl was not to be trifled with, as the darkly Gothic beauty threw her like a rag doll across the table and had her way with her, roughly, which everybody knew she secretly liked._

"I do not!"

 _But always denied._

"Oh, you think so, do you? We'll see."

 _The statuesque Latina drew herself up to her full height..._

"Ha!"

 _...and the trembling Goth found herself_ _on her knees in front of the beautiful and completely believable dominatrix._

" _Oh_ , no. No, no, no. Don't you dare..."

' _Curse my arrogance,' the Goth thought to herself, all submissively, 'I have angered my Mistress. I'm in for it now.'_

"Damn it, you know this collar itches. Right, you asked for it."

 _Just at that moment, the clouds parted to reveal the full moon..._

"Wait, why's it gone dar... Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding."

 _...and the tiny, unstatuesque Latina with the weird nose could only watch in horror, no wait, in awe - no, in awestruck horror, as the fabulous Goth revealed her true nature..._

"And turned into a total gank."

 _...transforming into an enormous but still strangely sexy werewolf, leaping on the helpless, tiny Latina, and began to ravage her. Or ravish her. One or the other. Or both._

"Great. Now I've got fleas. Give me that."

 _However, the beautiful and taller-than-she-looks Latina was not to be defeated by the big, ugly dog..._

"Hey!"

 _...evading the attack easily with her awesome ninja skills..._

"Which for the last time she totally doesn't have, no matter what she reads."

 _...and brought the sword..._

"Made of-"

 _... which she'd remembered needed to be silver this time..._

"Damn."

 _...down on the werewolf's stupid, furry, little head._

They glared at each other across the table. Jade was the first to move, her claws tapping furiously.

 _Or she would have done, but, with the lightning reactions of her kind, the magnificent werewolf parried with her favorite scissors..._

"Wolves can't use scissors!"

 _...which were specially adapted for paws, knocking the sword aside, and sinking her fangs deep into the neck of the unwitting Latina_...

"Right, that's it."

 _...wizard, who waved her magic wand and made the nasty, mean Goth explode into a million tiny unicorns._

.

.

.

 **Unicorns?** said a disembodied voice. **So, what, I'm dead now?**

"What? No, of course not."

 **Because I'm pretty sure being exploded into a million tiny pieces can't be good for you.**

"A million tiny _magical_ pieces." A small unicorn nudged Tori's foot. She picked it up and held it in the palm of her hand, where it bleated, plaintively. "They're quite cute, really."

 **Yeah? Well, imagine being stabbed to death by a million tiny horns.**

Tori sighed. "Right, fine."

 _Slowly the unicorns reassembled themselves, Terminator-style, into the bad-tempered Goth..._

 **Damn right I'm bad-tempered, you are so going to-**

 _... but it was a long, slow process..._

 **Urrgh.**

 _...and also quite painful._

 **Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.**

 _And the ungrateful Goth had plenty of time to think, and she decided never, ever to be mean to her beautiful Latina girlfriend ever again, like ever, not even when she forgot to take the trash out or did that thing with the banana that annoyed her so much._

 **There's a right way and a wrong way to eat a banana, Vega.**

 _Did I mention it was quite painful?_

 **Okay, okay.**

 _And so the two girls lived happily ever after, with absolutely no repercussions from recent events whatsoever. The end._

"Right. Ahem. _Thank_ you." Jade brushed herself down with quiet dignity, and pulled a feather out of her ear. She looked at it for a moment.

"So," she said. "You... want to go out for dinner, or something?"

Tori smiled, brightly. "That would be lovely, thanks."

"Great. You go get changed, and I'll..." She picked up the laptop. "I'll go put this away somewhere."

"Okay."

 _The unsuspecting Latina went off to dress for dinner, blissfully unaware that..._

"I hope you're not doing what I think you're doing."

"What, me?"

 _...that the Goth thought that she was, you know... a pretty cool girlfriend. All things considered._

 _The End._

 _._

 _._

 _._

 **Many thanks to Max Tomos for the fleas - the idea, that is, not the things themselves.**


	7. Chapter 7 - In the Nether Dimensions

**For all the countless thousands of you out there dying to know what happened to Jade during the intergalactic war from chapter 4, here's... well, I don't know what this is, really.**

.

 **W** ** _elcome to the Nether Dimensions – DO NOT ADJUST YOUR SET!*_**

.

.

.

There was a war going on. A secret war. A war of which the people of earth were strangely unaware, a war that had been raging for millennia. The ghost warriors of the Nether Dimensions were determined to regain control of the planet and eradicate the fleshy usurpers, and so they would have done centuries ago, had it not been for the mighty efforts of their adversaries - the deadly, implacable, Guys In Hats.

Jadelysium Zephyrus, Eradicator-in-Chief, stalked through the ruins of the small town, looking for the tell-tale evidence of ghostly involvement. The Neth-Dims, as she insisted on calling them even though no one else would join in, were powerful but ethereal - they could influence but they couldn't touch, and as a result their attacks on the physical dimension were erratic but occasionally devastating. She took a last look around at the destruction and pulled out a communicator.

"Nothing here," she reported. "Just looks like spring break got outta hand. I'm coming back."

She jumped into her Mark 3 transportation pod, which looked remarkably like a red Chevy, and gunned the engine.

.

.

.

Back at headquarters, deep below the surface of the planet, Overseer Skwtz pulled her into his office. "Grave things are afoot, Jade," he said, adjusting his magnificent headgear. "We believe the denizens of the Nether Dimensions..."

"The Neth-Dims."

The Overseer sighed. "The 'Neth-Dims', as you like to call them..."

"I've been toying with 'Neds'."

"We are not a branding agency, Jade."

"It's just easier to say, that's all."

"We are the Guys In Hats!" Skwtz slammed the desk. "The most feared, elite, awesome paramilitary taskforce in the universe! We do not struggle with basic diction!"

"Right, _fine_ ," Jade huffed. "So-"

"And where the hell is your hat? A Guy In A Hat without a hat is just... wrong. We have standards, you know."

"Sorry." She pulled out a large, floppy sun-hat and rammed it on her head, its brim drooping over her eyes. "Better?"

"Thank you." Skwtz seemed slightly mollified.

"So, what's going on with the Ned..." - he glared at her - "...denizens of the Nether Dimensions?"

"We believe they're planning something. Something big. We've detected a huge build-up of chronoplasmagenerative energy recently." He pushed a report across the desk.

She whistled. "That's a lot of chrono," she said. "Where is it?"

"Downtown L.A." Skwtz said. "Centered on a school called... Hollywood Arse."

"Never heard of it."

"No wait, I can't read my own writing. Hollywood _Arts_."

Jadelysium gasped. "I know that place!" she said. "My God, if they break through there..."

The Overseer nodded. "Catastrophe."

"I'm going to need back up."

"I'm afraid there is none."

"What? I thought we were an intergalactic organization with millions of agents spread across thousands of planets?"

"We are. But I've checked, and it turns out they're all busy."

"What everyone?"

"Yep."

"Even Krak the Indestructible?"

"Bad knee."

"Zorken III?"

"Dental appointment."

"The Molotov sisters?"

"Not currently speaking to each other."

"They're conjoined twins."

"Awkward."

"Oh, man... Wait, I've got it!" she said, with a sly grin. "Give me _her_. Give me the best. Give me... Vega-7."

There was silence. The Overseer looked even graver, if that were possible. "I'm sorry, Jade," he said, sombrely. "That unit is no longer available to you."

"What? Why?"

"There was an earthquake in the Los Angeles area. We fear her physical incarnation may have been disrupted."

"She's dead?"

"We don't know yet. Rumors of her death have been greatly exaggerated."

"Thank God for that."

"But then, rumors of her aliveness may also have been somewhat over-egged. And her entire brood-family were wiped out."

"What, all of them?"

"All of them."

"Even the one they call, 'Tri-Na'?"

"Her especially. She did initially make it out of the wreckage, but then by popular demand a bridge fell on her."

"Tragic."

"Indeed. So," the Overseer went on, "it's just you I'm afraid. Only you can do this." The Overseer's graveness reached new depths. "Millions of people are depending on you, Jade. Do it for them," he said. "Do it for your platoon. Do it for..." He paused, and brushed away a tear. "Do it for Vega-7. God rest her soul."

"I will, I... Wait a minute, I thought you said she wasn't dead?"

Skwtz shrugged. "Mmm. Could go either way."

"I see." Jadelysium's eyes stung as she stood to attention and adjusted her floppy hat. "In that case," she said. "Eradicator-in-Chief Jadelysium Augustina Zephyrus ready for duty, Sir."

"Good girl. Do you still have your Deplasmatron?"

She reached into her pocket and took out the pen-shaped object. "Fully charged and ready to go," she said.

"Then good luck. And remember," the Overseer said. "You're more afraid of them than they are of you."

She made to leave, but hesitated as she reached the door. "Why do we do it, Skwtz?" she asked, suddenly. "Why do we put ourselves on the line for them, every day? Why do we watch our comrades fall, while they do nothing?"

"The Overseer grew so grave he was practically interred. "We do it because we have no choice," he intoned. "Just like _they_ have no choice. Just like _none_ of us have ever had a choice. Ever. About anything. You understand that, don't you?"

Jadelysium nodded, sadly. "The lunch menu _is_ rather short."

"Exactly. This is our duty, Jade. Our sacrosanct, bounden duty. We defend, we protect. We ask no thanks, we offer no plea. We do it because we have to. We do it because we are," he said, his voice heavy with emotion, "the Guys In Hats."

"I understand," she said, quietly. "I won't let you down, Sir."

.

.

.

Jadelysium de-energized her transportation pod in the parking lot of Hollywood Arts, and got out. It was quiet. Too quiet. Was she too late? She gripped her Deplasmatron tightly, and pulled her hat down low over her eyes.

She scanned the lot as she made her way towards the door of the school. Anything could be a sign of Neth-Dim activity, she knew. An empty soda can rattled - was it being tossed by the wind, or kicked by a ghostly appendage? Only her experience would tell her, her instinct. She had to be alert.

The school door wasn't locked, so she pushed against it gently, every nerve straining to remain silent, Deplasmatron ready and set to 'negatize'. There was nothing in the hallway, but off to one side she could see a faint glow coming from an open door. A portal, she thought. Of course. She crept closer until she could make out a shape, a figure of some kind. This must be it. The vanguard. She had to strike now.

"Prepare to be negatized, scumbag!" she yelled.

The figure jumped. "Jade?" it said. "What are you doing here? And why are you wearing that ridiculous hat?"

"Vega!" Jadelysium cried in joy, letting her Deplasmatron drop to her side. "You're alive!"

"Um, yes," said the unit known as Vega-7. "Shouldn't I be?"

"I thought you'd been disrupted!"

"Well, yes, I was just getting some paper towels and you scared me so much I-"

"I mean by the earthquake."

"What earthquake? And why are you waving that pen around? Are you...?" Realization slowly dawned. "Oh, no."

"Quick, we have to get out of here before-"

"Jade, we have _got_ to talk about this."

"No! The time for talking is past! The time for... _not_ talking is here! We need to-"

"Jade!" The Latina walked towards the other girl, took the pen from her hand, and gently lifted the brim of the hat to look deep into her clear, guileless eyes. "Jade, babe," she said, kindly. "This has got to stop."

"But we... It's... the Neth-Dims are..." Tori raised an eyebrow, until finally Jade's shoulders drooped.

"Okay, fine," she said, sulkily.

"Take off the hat."

"But it's my _hat!_ "

"Off."

Jade pulled off the sun-hat and ran a hand through her hair. "You know, you're no fun sometimes, Vega," she muttered.

"Oh, really?"

"Really."

"Right, well, let's just see about that."

"Yeah, right. Like that's gonna... Whoa! What are you doing?"

 _The Vega-7 unit pushed the Eradicator-in-Chief roughly up against the wall of the janitor's closet, her lips crashing into the other girl's, causing her to cry out in-_

.

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 *** It invalidates the warrantee, and no one wants that.**


	8. Chapter 8 - Are You Trying to Deduce Me?

**Well, it's been a while, but if you can't face any more 'Power Play' and you're sick of waiting for the plot to turn up in 'Forgiveness and Forgetfulness', you can always come here for a little R &R...**

 **Thanks to Max for this idea, and also to Quitting Time. Note - 'Air on a G String' is actually by JS Bach.**

.

.

.

"That was ridiculous."

"It was your fault. You didn't join in."

"I didn't even know we were _doing_ it! And what the heck is a 'Vega-7' unit, anyway? What was I? Some kind of android?"

"Yeah, kind of," said Jade.

"Hmm."

"Although I prefer the term 'sexbot'."

"You... Ugh. Right. What's next?" She scrolled though the entries. "What about this? _'The Prince and the Porpoise'_."

"What's it about?"

"Well, I'm a water nymph-"

"All right!"

"That's 'nymph' without an 'o'. And I'm trapped in the body of a dolphin."

"Rats. And me?"

"You're..." She peered at the screen. "What's 'futa'?"

"You don't want to know. Next."

"Okay, let's see... _'How Did We Get To Where We Are Because Of The People We Used To Be'_?"

"Too wordy."

"What about _'Ghostly Encounter'_?'"

"Is it about ghosts?"

"Pretty much."

"No."

" _'Trapped in a Closet'_?"

"Real closet, or metaphorical closet?"

"Both, I think. _'Jade pushed the Latina roughly up against-_ '"

"Read it."

Tori sighed. "I give up," she said. "You choose."

Jade turned the laptop towards her, and started to read the list. "Nope... nope... too long... too short... too gross... too depressing... too much _'_ Tori'..."

"Hey!"

"...no punctuation... hit by a car... gets me confused with someone called Liz..."

"Liz?"

"Beats me. Speaking of which..."

"We already did that one."

"Oh, yeah. So what else? Too much Bade... too much Cat...

"I'm losing the will to live."

"... too many exclamation marks... written by that awful Reed guy..."

"Come on!"

"Ooh, here's one," Jade said "How about this. I'm Jade West, CEO of West Enterprises, a vast, multibillion-dollar company, worth... multibillions of dollars. That sounds more like it."

"Okay. So you're... what? Mid-forties?"

"No, I'm just like I am now."

"So how did you get to be CEO of a multibillion dollar company?"

"I don't know. Hard work and honesty?"

"Pffft!"

"Okay, well, maybe I inherited it from my dad."

"I thought we'd established that your dad runs a hat factory in Sacramento?"

"What? When did we decide that?"

"A few stories ago. Don't you remember? _'The Milliner's Tale'_. You were the seamstress daughter of a humble hat-maker, and I was something pretty and famous, with a dark secret."

"What secret?"

"I can't remember. I don't think I really understood it. But you saved me from it anyway, with your simple, clothy ways."

"Oh yeah. That one. Nice hats."

"Don't start with the hat thing. Hey look! What about this?"

Jade looked. "That's not even a _story_ ," she said. "It's just a suggestion."

"Exactly!" said Tori, eyebrows wiggling enticingly. "Which means we can make it up as we go along, and we'll still get the credit. Hmm? _Hmm?"_

"I don't know," Jade said, doubtfully. "It's hardly canon, is it?"

"Who cares? Come on, Jade. Let's give it try. It could be fun. Please?"

"Well, okay," Jade said. "It's better than nothing."

.

.

.

SCENE - Downtown Victorian London. Apartment 221B, Bakersfield Street.

.

The strains of music swelled through the room, weaving enchantment and delight. Tori 'John' Watson laid down her newspaper and looked up from her armchair, wiping a tear from her elegant fake moustache. "You play so beautifully," she said to the tall figure by the window, as the last notes faded away.

"You're too kind," said her companion. She laid aside the kazoo. "It's just a simple piece, of my own devising. I call it, _'Hair on a G-String'_."

"Exquisite."

"Thank you." Jadelock Holmes, the famous consulting detective, sighed deeply. "Damn it, Vega..."

"Watson."

"...Watson, is there no crime in this city?" she said. "Do the villains of old London town lay asleep in their beds? I swear that my brilliant forensic brain is mouldering like a three-day-old burrito."

"Something will turn up, Holmes," Tori said, reassuringly. "In the meantime, we could always make out."

"Tut, tut, Watson, this is no time for... mmm, okay then."

"Yay!"

"Just for a bit."

"Do you want me to lose the moustache?"

"...No."

"Ooh, kinky."

.

 _Half an hour later…_

.

"Right, well," Jade said, buttoning her dress. "As I was _saying_ , this is no time for making out." She punched a fist into her palm. "We need a _case_ , Watson," she cried. "We need... Wait! What's that upon the stair?"

"Where?"

"There! On the stair!"

"Where on the stair?"

"Right there! The tread of footsteps. Hush... A _tall_ man, I surmise. Noble build, fair hair, wearing the ring of the House of Bohemia. Carries a comb in his back pocket. Once had an unhappy love affair and walks with a slight lisp. Has six legs."

"Remarkable, Holmes!" Tori said. "You… Wait, what? Six legs?"

"Two of normal stature, four of a more spindly nature. Almost... dog-like."

"Or maybe," Tori said, opening the door, "he has a dog."

"Really, Watson, I hardly think... Oh."

Tori stood back to reveal a short, stodgy man, with black hair and a small terrier on a piece of string. He touched his forelock. "Sorry to bother you, ladies," he said, in a vaguely British accent, "but would one of you gentlemen be Miss Jadelock Holmes?"

"It is I!" Jade announced. "I is she! Come in, come in _. I_ am Jadelock Holmes," she said, proudly, and waved a hand at Tori. "And this is my faithful companion and fellow adventurer, the undoubtably Doctor Tori V-"

"Ahem."

"-atson."

"Doctor Vatson?" The man eyed Tori suspiciously. "Are you one of those German chaps?"

"What? No!" said Tori. "At least, I don't think so. Why don't you sit down?"

"Thank you, Miss." The man sat.

"I see you have lately returned from India," Jade said, airily. "And that you regularly wear a hat."

"Er..."

"Sometimes, that is. Occasionally. Or at least you could get one to fit you. If you wanted."

"Well I suppose," the man conceded. "And I _did_ have a curry the other night."

"Quite so," Jade said. "Quite so. Now, how may we help you?"

"I've got a bit of a problem. A real head-scratcher, and no mistake. A _mystery_."

"A mystery?" She turned to Tori, gleefully. "Did you hear that? A mystery! A case to solve, a riddle to unraddle, an enigma to denigmatize, using only the razor-sharp blade of our superb analytical minds. Well, _my_ mind, anyway."

"Hey!"

"Give us your mystery, Sir, so that we may revel in it."

"Oh, right," the man said. "It's like this. I've lost my dog."

"Aha! Interesting. Very interesting. Do go on."

"Okay, well, I had this dog..."

"Yes?"

"And now I've lost it."

"I see. I see." Jadelock Holmes began to pace the floor, fingertips pressed together, head bowed in thought. Tori Watson watched in fascinated adoration, marvelling at the curvaceous contours of the Gothic beauty, feeling a thrill of...

(Stop that! This is my bit!)

(Sorry.)

"What is it, Holmes?" asked the almost inhumanly hot doctor, leaning gracefully against the ottoman, her limpid brown eyes flashing with a secret intelligence, her cheekbones glinting in the light. "Have you deducted something?"

(Deducted?)

(Shut up.)

"I have indeed, Watson. I have indeed." Jade leaned against the magnificent fireplace, exhausted by her mental efforts. "I have solved your mystery, Sir," she said, darkly. "I know where your dog is."

"You do?" The man was puzzled.

"Yes!" She turned, triumphantly, and took three strides across the floor. "Your dog," she said, "is here!" She pointed dramatically at the small terrier on the carpet, which tilted its head and gave a small yelp. "Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't spot it before," she said. "I didn't even need the magnifying glass."

"But-"

"No need to thank me! My fee is twelve dollars and four farthings, plus a guinea for expenses. You can pay the housekeeper downstairs. Good day to you, Sir! Show him out, Vatson."

"Watson."

"Whatever."

"Not _this_ dog," the man said, exasperated. "My _other_ dog. I've hardly lost this one, have I?"

"There is another dog?"

"Yes. My good dog."

"You have, then... _two_ dogs?"

"No," the man said. "I have one dog, and no dog. On account of, it's gone missing."

"You've lost me."

"Perhaps," Tori said, laying her hand reassuringly on the consulting detective's shapely ass, "you should start at the beginning."

"Very well, Miss." The man leaned forward, and his voice grew low with foreboding. "It was a dark and stormy night..."

"Yes?" The girls leaned forward, breathlessly.

"...And my dog ran off," the man finished. "I ain't seen him since. The missus says he'll be back when he's hungry, but..."

"I see. Does he have a name?"

"He does," the man said, solemnly. "His name's Clive. But round here, folks just call him... _the Hound._ "

"Ooooooh..."

"You don't need to do your own spooky music, Watson."

"Sorry."

"Enough! And as for you, Mister...?"

"Baskerville."

"... Basketball, we'll _take_ your case!" Jade said. "We'll find your missing dog, we'll demystify your mystery, We'll crack the conundrum that lies at the very heart of your canine catastrophe." She turned to Tori. "Come, Watson," she said, picking up her deerstalker and ramming it on her head, decisively. "The game is afoot."

.

.

.

... I think I've gone blind."

"The flaps go at the sides."

"Ah."

.

.

.

 **To be continued...**

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.

.

 **Maybe...**


	9. Chapter 9 - The Game is Afoot

**Sorry, I accidentally wrote some more of this.**

.

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.

SCENE – Still in downtown Victorian London. Apartment 221B, Bakersfield Street.

.

"Very well, Sir," Jadelock Holmes said with a flourish, "you may return to your home, safe in the knowledge that the case is in good hands. Vatson and I..."

"Watson."

"Watson and I shall take the overnight sleeper from East Kensington to Hampstead Heath, and thereafter a thoroughbrace to Little Biddlington, and be with you by sunrise. Good night."

The man touched his forelock and left, dragging the terrier behind him. "He seemed nice," Tori said. "So, what shall we do now?"

"Um... strip Twister?"

"I mean about the case."

"Oh, right." Jade rearranged her deerstalker and clamped her pipe in her mouth, the bubbles drifting up to the ceiling. "Time is of the essence. Let's go." She led the way down the stairs. "I'll drive."

"What?" said Tori. "I thought we were taking the overnight sleeper from East Kensington to Hampstead Heath and thereafter a whatsit to wherever, or something."

"No," Jade said, "because I don't know what any of those words actually mean." They stepped out of the front door of 221B Bakersfield Street into the baking West Coast sunshine of old London town. "We're going in _this_." She pointed at the vehicle, a bright red eight-cylinder, four-on-the-floor, twin-exhaust, supercharged horse-drawn hansom cab. "I call it… the _Holmesmobile."_

(Did you even _do_ any research?)

(Of course I did. What's your point?)

(Nothing.)

"Come on, get in." Tori reluctantly slid into the passenger side, and braced herself. Jade gunned the engine, and immediately ran over the horses.

(See?)

(Dammit.)

They climbed out of the wreckage and picked their way gingerly over the equine remains, making towards an entirely more appropriate vehicle, which neither of them felt the urge to describe in any great detail.

Jade tapped the driver with her cane. "Little Biddlington," she said, "and don't spare the-"

"Why, if it isn't Mister Jadelock Holmes!" the driver said, doffing his hat. "What an honor."

"Yes, well." Jade blushed, coyly. "I'd say the same, but it wouldn't really be-"

"And Doctor Watson, too! My word, wait till I tell the missus who I had in the back of my cab."

"I'm sure she'll be thrilled. So, if we could just-"

"Go on," the driver said. "Do the thing."

"What thing?"

"The trick. You know, where you work out what I had for lunch last Tuesday just by looking at the color of my socks, or something."

"Oh, that," Jade said. "Very well. I see that..." She turned to her companion. "Actually, why don't you have a go?"

"Me?" said Tori.

"You know my methods, Vatson-"

"Watson."

"-Watson, it's simply a question of applying them." She sat back in her seat, resting her chin on the head of the cane, as the driver looked at Tori expectantly.

"Um, right." Tori cleared her throat and addressed the driver. "Ahem. Well." She took a deep breath. "I see from your appearance and demeanor," she said, "that you are a tall man in a large hat."

(Right, that's it. You're just trying to make me look stupid.)

(If the large hat fits, Tori.)

(Give me that.)

(What? No! It's mine!)

(Give it!)

(No!)

(Just.. give me...)

(...don't you...)

(... stop that, or I'll...)

(... ow, that's not...)

.

.

.

(Right. That's better. I'm doing this bit.)

(...Fine.)

"And furthermore," the suave young doctor said suavely, running a hand through her long, suave hair, "I-"

(The thesaurus is there for a reason, you know.)

(Hush.)

"And furthermore," the debonair young doctor said, urbanely, running her hand through her long, sophisticated hair, "I see from the way you wear your pocket-watch that you are from Huguenot stock on your mother's side, while your father was a one-eyed lascar from South Dundee. The slight stain on your lapel tells me that you were once an excellent foosball player, possibly County level, until a perforated eardrum ended your career and led you, I surmise, to your present occupation. You enjoy opera and can tell the difference between a '95 Lafite and a '98, but would distain as gauche those who make the distinction in polite company. The small hangnail on your left thumb suggests you once contracted malaria while windsurfing up the Amazon, and the slight scuffing of your instep tells a tale of heartbreak and despair that is entire congruent with your long but unrequited love affair with the daughter of the King of Spain." She sat back, smugly. "How's that? Oh, and you have a moustache."

"Bravo!" the driver said. "My word, Mister Holmes-"

 _"Miss_ Holmes," Jade said, sulkily.

(I am not sulky!)

(You so are.)

"You need to watch your step," he said. "Or this young lady with the amazing cheekbones will be taking your job, and no mistake. I've never met such an intelligent, insightful, thoughtful, intuitive, perceptive, discerning, astute, percipient, perspicacious, sagacious, wise, judicious, shrewd, sharp, sharp-witted, razor-sharp, keen, incisive, acute, imaginative, appreciative, intelligent, thoughtful, sensitive, deep, profound-"

(Right, that's enough. Put the thesaurus down slowly and step away.)

(Spoilsport.)

"So," said the driver, forgetting entirely what had just happened. "Are you here on the Ripper case?" He nodded his head towards a newspaper hoarding bearing the headline _'Ripper Strikes Again'_.

(What's a 'ripper'?)

(I don't know. I think it's some kind of Australian.)

"No, my good man," Jade said, sternly. "We have no time for such trifles."

(I like trifle.)

(Shh.)

"We," she said, "are on the trail of a mysterious dog."

The cab driver gasped. "Not... the _Hound?"_

"The very same. You know of him?"

"Oh, I know of him," the man said, darkly. "I know of him... lots."

"Aha!" Jade said. "Just as I suspected. Make a note of this, Vatson."

"Watson."

"What can you tell us, Sir, about your experience at the hands of this beast?"

"Paws."

"Okay. What can you... tell us, Sir, about your experience at the-"

(What, we're doing vaudeville now?)

(Sorry, couldn't help it.)

"He's a monster," the driver said, his voice low and ominous. "An evil, red-eyed, razor-clawed, killing machine."

"Er..."

"His teeth are like daggers, his breath a fetid blast from the bowels of hell."

"I had a rabbit like that, once. I think it was all the-"

"His howl is like the battle cry of Armageddon!" the driver went on. "The Devil himself would forsake his pit to escape his clutches. But it would do him no good. No good at all. For you see," he leaned closer to the girls, his own breath Hound-like in its fetidity. " _No_ one has ever escaped the Hound," he said. "No one! If you cross the beast, you are doomed. Doomed to a fate worse than death. And _then_ death. For once he gets your scent, he'll track you down... _forever._ Nothing can stop him. He'll know no rest until he finds you. And when he catches you, when you've run as far and as fast as you can, when you drop to your knees in exhaustion, praying to the Heavens to take you, he'll pounce. Pounce like the fiend he is, sinking his fangs into your throat, tearing you limb from limb, devouring your innards while your eyeballs roll in the dust, ripping you to shreds until your very soul is just a blood-red smear across his evil maw." The driver leaned back, satisfied. " _That_ ," he said, "is what I know about the Hound."

There was a long silence. Outside the window a ball of tumbleweed, a thousand miles from home, rolled desolately across the London street. The two girls looked at each other for a moment.

"So," said Tori, brightly. "Tell us more about this 'Ripper' guy. He sounds interesting."

.

.

.

"Well, what do you think?" Tori said, leaning back from the laptop and peeling off the moustache. "I think it's getting quite exciting."

"Yeah. Nice swerve on the Ripper thing. I'm not sure I'm keen on the whole 'being eaten alive' scenario. Here." She handed Tori a coffee. "Let's take a break."

"Thanks." Tori balanced the mug on her knees, both hands wrapped around it for warmth. "Why's it so cold?"

"It's the fog."

"I didn't see any fog."

"I'll put it in when I fix the typos."

"Right." She sipped her coffee. "Ooh!" she said. "We should have a look at the comments!"

"What comments?"

"The reviews. You know, see what people think of us."

"Yes!" Jade said excitedly, pulling up a chair. "Man, I _love_ validation. Makes me feel alive."

"I thought _I_ made you feel alive," Tori said.

"Yeah," Jade said, "but you _have_ to like me. That's kind of your job."

"If I'm honest, there wasn't much competition for it. The hours are lousy and the pay's terrible."

"I love you too. Right, here we go."

.

.

.

They sat in silence for a while, staring at the screen. "Well," Jade said, with a sniff. "I guess you can't please everyone."

"No."

"And it's early days, really."

"Yes."

"I mean, it's not like we didn't _try_."

"Mmm." Tori peered closer. "You know, I'm pretty sure there's only one 'l' in 'drivel'."

"Right, that's it." Jade slammed the lid of the laptop shut. "Let's do something else."

"Like what?"

"Well, I can think of something."

"What?"

Jade drew the ear-flap of her deerstalker across her face seductively, and batted her eyelashes. "What do _you_ think, Doctor?" she said.

"Why, Mr Holmes," Tori said. "Are you trying to..."

 _The consulting detective pushed the redoubtable doctor roughly up against the wall of 221B Bakersfield Street, her lips crashing into the other girl's, causing her to cry out in-_

.

.

.

 **Well, have we had enough of Jadelock and Vatson? Or will we tame the Hound, armed only with the rolled-up newspaper of truth and the stern voice of love? And what of the Ripper?**


	10. Chapter 10 - Goldeneye

**Well, just a quick one, if you're buying. You can blame Max Tomos for this, it's entirely his fault.**

.

.

.

Jade 'West' Bond, CMG, RNVR, Commander of the Royal Navy and Agent 007 of Her Majesty's Secret Service, lay back in quiet contemplation, and considered her options. They were, she'd be the first to admit, pretty limited, being cuffed as she was, hand and foot, to a large metal table, a huge laser of unimaginable power aimed somewhere between her legs.

"So, Goldvega," she said, defiantly. "Do you expect me to talk?"

Tauric 'Tori' Goldvega - for it was she - cackled manically from behind the controls of the gigantic death-ray. "No, Miss Bond," she said, her voice dripping with sardonic amusement, "I expect you to _die_." She stabbed triumphantly at the activation switch.

There was a long pause, during which nothing happened.

"I mean, I can talk if you _want_ me to," Jade offered, after a while. "If it moves things along."

"No thanks, I'm good." Goldvega poked at a few more buttons, tongue stuck out of the side of her mouth in concentration. Fiery red death still failed to erupt from the laser.

"It's just... is this going to take long?" Jade asked. "Only I'm supposed to be meeting 008 for cocktails at nine." She frowned. "Or was it 009 at eight? Crap, I've left my phone in-"

"Hush! I'm concentrating."

"Sorry."

"Thank you."

Jade sighed. She twisted her head to one side and wiggled her finger, inspecting her nails. The black polish was starting to chip, but she'd been reluctant to re-apply it because she could never remember which bottle was midnight black with a hint of shimmer, and which one contained the small nuclear device that could take out downtown L.A. She wished Q would start labeling these things. Last week she'd gone to touch up her lipstick at a junket in Hong Kong and shot the tip off the Yerbian ambassador's ear.

"How are we doing over there?" she said, eventually. There was a grunt, and the little _'clink'_ of something small, but important, snapping off and falling somewhere inaccessible. "Dang it!"

"Do you want some help?"

"No!" There was the rustling of pages, and a faint muttering. " _Chapter 7 - So Now You've Broken It. Congratulations. Before attempting repair, first ensure that you are wearing the safety goggles provided, then remove the..._ Wait, what goggles?"

"Is that the Mark III control panel or the Mark IV?" Jade said. "Because if it's the Mark III, you can bypass the starter switch if you reverse the polarity of the neutron flow. If it's the Mark IV it's a little trickier, you have to-"

"I know how to do it!"

"Well, clearly you don't."

"I do!"

"Don't."

"Look," Tori said, testily, "do you _want_ me to cut you in half, or not?"

"If I'm honest," Jade said, "not really, no."

"Well, tough tooties."

Jade's voice dropped dangerously. "'Tough _tooties'_?" she growled. "Don't you ever-"

"Look, just shut up, okay? I've never used this before. I need to concentrate. Aha!" The laser sprang into life, much to Jade's alarm. _"Now_ we'll see who knows how to use a laser, and who's going to go through life as a pair of squashy book-ends."

"That's gross."

"Look on the bright side, you can always be your own 'plus-one' at parties."

"At least _I_ get invited to parties."

"Hey! I get invited to parties all the time."

"When? When was the last time you went to a party?"

Tori sniffed. "I throw my _own_ parties."

"Oh, really?" Jade said. "And who comes to these parties? Hmm?"

"Well..."

"I'll tell you. Henchmen."

"They're not all henchmen!" Tori said, hotly. "I have guests as well. _Proper_ guests."

"Right. And how many of those guests have to order two limos to take them home?"

"I don't cut _everyone_ in half!"

"I bet you do. I bet you bisect all your guests. You're just a bisectional kind of girl."

"I am _not_ bisectional!"

"That's not what it says on the wall of the ladies' room. Wait, is this table gold?"

"Of course it is," Tori said. "Everything's gold. Gold's kind of my thing."

"Yeah, I get that. It's just..." Jade eyed the laser beam moving towards her. "You shouldn't really cut gold with a laser."

"Why not?"

"It's too reflective. If you're not careful, the light will bounce back and-"

"Ow!" Tori yelped. "Ow, ow, ow!"

"What's wrong?"

"I've got laser all up in my eye!" she said, accusingly.

"Well, I did warn you. Anyway, shouldn't you be wearing the goggles? I'm sure they come with goggles."

"No I'm not wearing the damned goggles! They must be in the packing crate with the spare bolts. _Oooooh_ ," she moaned. "It really hurts."

"Do you want me to take a look?"

"...would you?"

"You'll have to untie me first."

"Oh God, yeah. Sorry." Tori moved around the table unfastening the cuffs with one hand, the other still clamped to her eye. "There you go."

Jade sat up, rubbing her wrists. "Thanks," she said. "Right, let's see." She moved Tori over towards the light. "Head back. Open your eye."

"Ouch!"

"Don't be such a baby. Okay." She peered deep into limpid brown eyes, and saw something sparkle. "Ah, I see."

"What is it?" Tori whispered, fearfully. "Is it full of laser?"

"No." Jade lifted a fingernail, and very carefully teased the small object out of the corner of Tori's eye. She held it up. "It's... gold."

"Gold?"

"A single fleck of gold." She studied it. "It's quite beautiful, in a way," she murmured. She flicked it away, dismissively, and turned back to the girl in her arms. "But not as beautiful as you."

Tori gazed up at the cruel but handsome features of the spy who loved her, and realized that her dreams of subjugating the nations of the earth had only been a way of compensating for the loneliness inside. "Oh, James," she breathed.

"Oh, Tauric."

"I'm sorry I tried to cut you in half."

"I'm sorry I tried to stop you taking over the world."

"I'd have given it all to you if you'd asked."

"No, Tori," Jade said. "The world is not enough. Not without you."

 _The remarkably young and unconvincingly accented British secret agent pushed the hapless but pretty supervillain up against the wall of the secret lair hidden deep beneath the janitor's closet, her lips crashing into the other girl's, causing her to cry out in-_

 _._

 _._

 _._

 **The thing about lasers and gold is kind of true. Ish.**


End file.
